A Black-Tie Optional Event

Now, if you were going to a black-tie optional event, what would that mean to you?

Black tie, right? At the very least, a dark suit? Fancy dress?

Tuxedo, check. Fancy dress--plus fancy hair (styled by a professional), check. I married a man who bought his tux for the wedding--and seven and a half years later, he still fits in it. (Disgusting, I know. But I love him anyway.) See?



We were good to go.

What? What black-tie optional event did we go to?

My adoring husband managed to snag up us two (corporate-purchased) tickets to a "Signature Chef's Auction and Culinary Sampling," which turned out to be a fundraiser for the March of Dimes.

Okay, sure. We had to scramble for a sitter (also known as my friend Leah H., her patient husband, and two entertaining young children), but the March of Dimes. We could go and support the March of Dimes and consume Culinary Samples prepared by Signature Chefs. Not a problem.

We live in a Midwest town of 45,000. We were a little unsure who would be the 'chefs' in this case. But hey--a free, black-tie optional date. Ready to go.

Because I love you, I will include the picture our son took:



Oy. But I take comfort in the other picture he took that night:



See? He took better pictures of me and my husband than he did of Gater. Cold comfort.

Anyway, so we go. And immediately, there was a problem. A problem in the form of polo/golf shirts.

Yes. We were at a black-tie optional event, and there were men (plural) wearing polo shirts. Anyone want to hazard a guess about the number of men who were wearing black ties?

Yup. Just my man. We could see polo shirts from the car. "Wear it like you own it," I said. And he did.

I did better. The women took 'black-tie' much more seriously. I was good. Even in those shoes.

So we go in, where one of Jason's coworkers immediately said, "Waiter? Waiter!" Yeah, that was the crowd we were in.

Okay! Not a problem! We own it! Bring on the Culinary Samples by Signature Chefs!

Ooh, problem number two. Just as 'black-tie optional' turned out to be open to interpretation, so did the word 'chef.' 'Chef,' in this case, applied to the following establishments:

1. Panera Bread Co. (also known as St. Louis Bread Co for those of you in MO.)
2. Pop's Pizza
3. Terrible's Mark Twain Casino (although, to be fair, these people were ACTUAL CHEFS--but the shock of the local casino set me back)
and my favorite: 4. County Market Catering (a regional grocery store chain)

Other 'chefs' included a Greek restaurant, a Thai restaurant, and a fudge shop. Not that I minded the fudge. Bring on the fudge!

So, it turns out that words that we thought had 'meaning' were open to 'interpretation.' 'Black-tie optional' means you shouldn't focus on the black-tie part, but the optional part. 'Chef' means not Cordon Bleu trained, but person who cooks food.

Whatever. We had a damn fun time. We sampled everything. (Well, I sampled everything. The vegetarian I married sampled a much smaller selection.) The food was great, especially the pizza. We sat with three other couples from work, including Diana, who took the good picture of us (HI DIANA!) and made a variety of snarky comments. At least everyone at our table had on a tie.

And we brought home a souvenir! We didn't win the dog basket for Gater in the silent auction. But in the live auction, we bought this.



Yup. We bought a printer. A big printer. Some might even call it whomping huge. A four color laser printer that fills up a significant corner of my newly enlarged office with its "stylish details, including a soft curve design and two-tone gray coloring that complements the modern look of today's PCs." Really. I didn't make that up. Someone else did, poor sap. Thank goodness I scored a filing cabinet capable of holding it up at a yard sale last weekend, because otherwise, it'd be on the floor.

So the evening was a success. The kid had fun playing with friends, we got out of our normal routine while looking fabulous, and office equipment was purchased.

Anything for a good cause!

Glamorous

I did something this weekend that I've never done before.

I hosted a make-up party.

No, I'm not thirteen. At the age of thirteen, I believed, deep in my heart, that the height of make-up glamor was blue eyeshadow up to my eyelids. Memorialized in my seventh grade picture with a wicked mullet and a bright purple polo top.

No, I don't have a copy to show you. My mother, in one of her more kind and magnanimous moments, actually let me burn the damn things. Really. So you have to take me at my word. It was hideous.

It was so bad that I didn't even attempt make-up for another three years, and when I did, my sisters had to beat it in to me. The result has been a love-hate relationship with the feminine art of beauty products. Mostly hate.

But I covet. I covet the pretty shades and I covet the promises for beautiful, clear skin--or at least the illusion of beautiful, clear skin.

So I started using Bare Escentuals, willfully overlooking the gross abuse of the English language for marketing purposes. And I like it. Not enough to put it on every day. I only wear make-up three days a week, when I teach and go to work. But still, it's not bad. And I don't look like I'm so clueless that the negatives must be burned. So it's a win-win.

So the last time I was in St. Louis, shopping for the perfect win-a-writing-award-reception-outfit with my personal stylist, aka my sister Leah, I stopped by the Bare Escentuals store to stock up. And I put my business card in the bin for a free make-up party.

And I 'won.' Really.

I won in August. I could bring up to twelve friends. Now, here is the sad fact of the matter. I do not have twelve friends (facebook statuses notwithstanding). The fact of the matter is that I have about four women I count as close, personal friends (relatives not included) who I try to talk to at least once a month. Only two of them live in my town. And you know what? That's all I need. I'm that kind of woman.

But I could bring twelve. So I started emailing. I cast a wide net. Sisters, mother, in-laws, friends of my sisters who I know, friends of my sisters I don't know. Really. I'm not above borrowing friends on special occasions.

This is why Napoleon lost at Waterloo. Have you ever tried to round up more than two other grown women with children? Good Lord, it's IMPOSSIBLE. Throw in football season and a sister with season tickets? Infinity is easier to define than set a date. I negotiated with the various factions of possible attendees for two months.

Last Sunday, it all came together. My sister Leah, my friend Leah H. (not to be confused with each other, although for the first time ever, I was able to yell "LEAHS" across a crowded room and get results), my friend/coworker/Grammar Goddess Mary, Lucy (who is technically my sister's Hannah's best friend, but they've been best friends for so long that Lucy has, in fact, attended family reunions and been mistaken for a relative, so I get to count her as one of my own) and me. That's five. That's all I could get.

We had a darned good time anyway.



Being that there were five of us, someone had to be the odd-woman-out. And, to quote my sister Leah, "Girl, I'm single. I'm used to it."



The final result? Loveliness. (No, I'm not just sucking up.)



I was informed that, to post any picture of Lucy, I needed express written consent from a baseball commissioner. Or was it basketball? Either way, I think this is a nice shot of her.



Lucy was sitting with Mary. I took a lot of pictures, but this is the best picture I have of both of them. I don't think the baseball commissioner would approve of any others.



This is my friend (not sister) Leah. I have more shots of her, but they involve this weird store-provided 'headband' that was closer to a garter belt, and since I'd prefer not to alienate her, we'll leave it at this.



This is the only picture of me on my camera. Lucy took lots of pictures, but I don't have them yet. Actually, I kind of like it. I look 'thoughtful.' Without looking overtly 'dumb.' A rare trick.

And you know what? I got a hostess gift! FREE STUFF! Mascara and three eyeshadows and all sorts of free goodness. Mary and the Leahs and I spent the rest of the day shopping. It was a complete and total Girls Day Out. I had a blast.

And while I was gone?



Yeah. Jake hasn't played with that toy in two years. Now Gater has it. And Jake wants it back. Jake has a lower center of gravity--but Gater has all those legs for more traction. It's a toss up.